lady betty’s weakness passed. she was too strong, too loving, and too determined by nature, to give way to the tears and sighs of a whining woman. so stern was her face and so resolute that even alice, with all the old claims of faithful service and affection, dared not offer her any consolation save to kiss her hand humbly and sadly.
“ah, alice,” she said, “i cannot talk to you. when i was happy i chattered like a magpie; but now that i feel so much i am tongue-tied; yet i understand, my girl, i understand.”
“i wish i could help you,” alice said, in tears, “i wish i could do something for you both!”
betty shook her head sadly. “there is no one but the king. ah, alice, in my careless days i have mocked his dutch accent and his dutch ways—but now—i go to him as my[pg 269] one hope under heaven! how foolish i have been, how heartless!”
she would not stay in leicester house; she only lingered long enough to select her plainest gown and a cloak and hood, and to take such jewels and money as belonged to her individually, before she and alice set out, attended by the tireless sir edward. not this time to the tower, however, but to a mediator who might approach the king with more likelihood of success than any one; the widow of the martyred lord russell. from sir edward mackie, lady russell learned that morning the whole story, and her heart was touched by the despair of the young countess, suffering as she had suffered. though of all women lady russell was the last one to sympathize with a jacobite, yet her compassion moved her to forgive her enemies, and from her lady clancarty might look for more help than from any one, for she was an honored and revered friend of king william’s.
so to lady russell’s house in bloomsbury the young countess of clancarty directed her steps, and it was on the way thither that they met the coach of my lord of devonshire. the great emblazoned coach drawn by four stout flanders mares, with outriders in crimson[pg 270] and gold lace, came clattering and rumbling along the street, the men cursing and shouting at the other vehicles that threatened to stop his grace’s way. betty and her escort stood back to escape the mud from the kennel as it passed.
the news of spencer’s despicable act and of clancarty’s arrest had been spread over the town by the young men at secretary vernon’s dinner. when his grace saw lady clancarty afoot at that early hour, therefore, he ordered his coach to stop and descended with great dignity.
she did not wait for him to speak, running up to him with an eager face.
“my lord, my lord,” she cried, “i claim your promise at newmarket. you will help me save my lord clancarty.”
devonshire gracefully kissed her hand.
“dear lady clancarty,” he replied, “i would hesitate only at john the baptist’s head upon a charger! i shall keep my promise. indeed, ’tis partly kept already, for i have just arranged with my lords of ormond and bedford to go with me to kensington for your sake. but,” the great man paused, glancing at the beautiful face, “my dear child, you would be the best suppliant,” he added.
[pg 271]“i will go,” betty answered, “though, indeed, my lord, i do not know how the king will receive me—he is so cold! and my father—” her voice broke at the word; “lord sunderland will not help me. sir edward has suggested lady russell as an intercessor.”
an expression of surprise passed over devonshire’s face, but it brightened.
“i know of no one better,” he said gravely; “nay, dear lady clancarty, take heart of grace; your cold king is a merciful one.”
betty drew a sharp breath.
“my lord clancarty is out of his clemency,” she said faintly; “the habeas corpus act—” she could say no more.
devonshire looked grave and his eyes met mackie’s significantly, but he took her hand.
“my child,” he said kindly, “you will go in my carriage to lady russell’s and then i will go to kensington; we will not surrender until we are beaten. you are not wont to be faint hearted.”
“i am changed,” she replied; “the old betty is quite dead, i think, my lord; now i am only the shadow of clancarty; as he suffers so also do i. if i could but see him!”
[pg 272]“i have sent to the tower,” said the duke reassuringly, “and i think i may get a letter for you. would a word be any comfort?”
“ah, my lord!” she exclaimed, and kissed his hand impulsively.
once in the coach they travelled rapidly; the duke talking of other things, seeing well enough that her strength was overtaxed. he was still talking when the carriage turned from little queen street and stopped in bloomsbury square. he led her by the hand into the presence of rachel, lady russell, his kinswoman by marriage, and lady betty never forgot the benevolence of the great man’s face, the kindly pressure of his hand, the fatherly interest of his glance, as he walked beside her in the splendid dress he had assumed to go to court. nor did she forget the sad, sweet dignity of the widow who rose to meet them and came forward with such reserve of manner until she saw lady betty’s face, then she held out both hands, tears glistening in her eyes; she scarcely courtesied to the duke.
“my child!” she exclaimed, “my poor child, i too have suffered so. ah, my lord, when will the traitor’s gate close, save on a woman’s bleeding heart?” and she kissed the young countess on brow and cheek.
[pg 273]“my husband,” faltered betty, “you know, dear madam, that he is a jacobite?”
“i know it,” lady russell answered sadly; “but he is also a brave man and, as i know, the idol of one woman’s heart. alas, my lord,” she added gravely to devonshire, “do you love us well enough to make amends for the broken hearts—the faithful broken hearts?”
his grace of devonshire only bowed his head while the elder sufferer clasped the younger in her arms and caressed her, speaking kind and soothing words, like a mother to the daughter of her heart. a moment later, when she glanced an inquiry at him over betty’s head, he shook his gravely, framing “no” with his lips, for he had no hope, or next to none. so he told young mackie as they left the house together.
“poor young creature,” said his grace gravely, “she shall command my utmost endeavors; spencer is a cold-hearted rogue—and her father!” the duke shrugged his shoulders; “as for clancarty, he’s more likely to be made an example than an exception.”
“he’s a brave man, your grace,” said mackie generously, “and there are many of his persuasion.”
“a poor philosophy, my boy,” replied the[pg 274] duke; “this fellow is notorious, besides. do you know his history?”
“no,” said mackie sadly, “i see only her agony.”
“it was ormond who introduced him to her at newmarket, and i suspect that his grace knew who ‘mr. trevor’ really was, though he doesn’t admit it. but i believe she divined it at once. clancarty has a history,” his grace went on; “he was bred a protestant, but when he went back to ireland, in the late king’s time, he fell in with papist kinsfolk and it served his turn at court to be a papist, so my young lord turned his coat; a wild rogue, sir, let me tell you, yet this young girl loves him! he sat in the celtic parliament at king’s inns,—a very pretty recommendation to king william,—he commanded a regiment in king james’s army and was taken by marlborough, but succeeded in getting off. the estates of clancarty—they are held to be worth ten thousand a year—are confiscated, and you know who has the greater share?” added the duke significantly, “my lord woodstock. william will not despoil his dutch favorites for a jacobite.”
young mackie’s face was grave.
“she asks only for his life,” he said, “and she[pg 275] pleads so eloquently that i think no man but one of stone can refuse her.”
devonshire smiled broadly.
“not you, at least, my dear sir,” he replied, “if my eyes mistake not.”
the young man turned crimson.
“your grace,” he said, “i do confess it; but i have seen her so like an angel in her devotion, so forgetful of all but him, that, loving her, i would risk my life to give him back to her.”
the duke took a pinch of snuff and stood tapping the jewelled lid of the box thoughtfully.
“a very pretty sentiment, sir edward,” he said genially, “and i honor you for it. by my faith, i would not risk my own heart against her tears, or her smiles, either,” he added smiling, “though you need not mention it. but i have small hope, sir, small hope; the king has been, as we know, over merciful and fostered rebellion at his very door. what is it the great bard says?
“‘what doth cherish weeds but gentle air?
and what make robbers bold but too much lenity?’
and at this time, after the recent troubles, his majesty is not like to be advised to mercy,” and his grace shook his head; “there is but little hope!”
